


The Song of Finrod Felagund

by joanofarcstan



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dagor Bragollach, Drama in Nargothrond, Entirely Self-Indulgent, Epic Poetry, Flight of the Noldor, Nargothrond, finrod-focused, no beta we die like men, quest for the silmaril, very niche but that's ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joanofarcstan/pseuds/joanofarcstan
Summary: "For it is said of FelagundThat he loved not wisely but well..."A song, like Bilbo's "Song of Eärendil," that chronicles the deeds of Finrod Felagund, the "fairest and most beloved of the House of Finwë" (Tolkien, "Of Beren and Lúthien").
Comments: 17
Kudos: 20





	The Song of Finrod Felagund

_Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?  
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?  
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?  
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?  
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;  
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.  
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,  
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?_

_—Lament for the Rohirrim,_ J. R. R. Tolkien

____________________________________________________________

Some tales do not end happily,  
And, children, this is one of them.  
This is a tale where heroes take  
Death as reward for bravery  
And heartbreak sharp for loyalty.  
This is a world that has been marked  
By grief and treason, kin on kin,  
And darkness that has known no rest.  
This is a song of Arda Marred;  
Of glory born of tragedy—  
Of Finrod’s triumph in his fall.

For it is said of Felagund  
That he loved not wisely but well;  
That he loved fiercely, heeding not  
The counsels of all close to him.  
And it is also told that he  
Foresaw his doom that was to come  
For ill-starred love, and yet he laughed,  
Embracing Fate with open arms,  
And smiling said, tho' tears there were,  
"Then I shall not have died in vain."

The Doom that Mandos laid upon  
The Noldor could not hold him back:  
He crossed the Western Sea for love  
And braved the Grinding Ice for it.  
For when they came to Araman  
And wise Finarfin sought return  
To Valinor, in face of Doom  
And shadow of the Kinslaying  
At Alqualondë, did he find  
His daughter, fair Galadriel,  
Seeking adventure o'er the Sea,  
And found as well his younger sons  
Unwilling to forsake their friends  
Among strong-willed Fingolfin's sons.

So looked he to his eldest son,  
Who stood prepared to turn back too  
And pleaded him go with his kin:  
"My son, I beg thee, fare thou east  
With thy ambitious, restless kin;  
Watch over them while I cannot!"  
And Finrod bowed his golden head  
For knew he even then that there  
Was no return, except through death.  
Yet Seeing too what darkness lay  
In wait for them on distant shores—  
He Saw two fall in sudden flame,  
And one stand lonely, under Ban  
And barred from ever sailing West—  
Forsake his siblings he could not  
Nor let them face their fate alone.  
Thus bowed he to his father's will;  
Cried “Fare thee well!” and crossed the Sea.

For love of all Beleriand  
Did Finrod build fair Nargothrond  
Of carven stone and caverns deep  
Where hammer fell in blazing forge;  
The mightiest of elven realms—  
Tho’ always doomed to fall in flame.  
For in a vision Ulmo sent  
He Saw a place of hidden strength;  
A refuge for all Elves and Men  
And Dwarves, lest Morgoth overthrow  
The gleaming armies of the North.  
And fought he in the War of Jewels  
At Dagor Aglareb, and saw  
The Pass of Sirion thus breached  
By hosts of orcs from Angband fell.  
And so he knew that Nargothrond  
Though fair, must be a fortress strong  
To guard the Pass, and guard against  
Fell Angband's might, which ever sought  
To ruin those who named themselves  
The Free Peoples of Middle-Earth.  
And thus won he the after-name  
Of _Felagund,_ Hewer of Caves.  
And, granting to all wanderers  
A place of refuge in his halls,  
He won too everlasting love  
From Men and Dwarves and travellers—  
That still endures 'twixt vassals of  
The House of Finrod and their friends.

But loved he not too well the work  
Of his own hands, for knew he too  
That there must come an end to this;  
That Nargothrond would fall in flame,  
Tho' he would not be there to see,  
Betrayed to death as he would be  
By jealous kin whom he had loved  
And sheltered warmly in his halls—  
But that tale shall not now be told.

And for a time he lived in joy  
Till fair Artanis asked of him  
Why wed he had not, being King,  
And never sought to choose an heir;  
For then cruel Foresight came on him  
And cast a shadow in his eyes.  
"An oath I too shall swear," said he,  
"And must be free to follow it  
To darkness in a pass I held  
Before the fall of Sirion."  
Then looked he to the carven stone  
And crystal shining in the night  
By flame of torch, and said to her,  
His countenance in shadow wreathed,  
"Nor shall there endure anything  
Of my realm for a son to rule,"  
And silent fell in company  
But later wept into the night.

Then came the Long Peace to an end  
In Sudden Flame, when Morgoth did  
Unleash the rivers flaming gold,  
And overthrow the armies of  
The northern highlands, where had dwelt  
Angrod the Iron-handed and  
His brother Aegnor who for love  
Of Andreth fair had never wed;  
And Barahir who knew no fear.  
So it is told that Finrod saw  
His brothers slain by Morgoth's orcs,  
And rose, light blazing in his eyes—  
Light of the Trees in Valinor,  
Light of the rage of new-born grief,  
Light of the fire that’s wrought by love—  
With shining sword and spear in hand,  
And with an army thus went forth  
From Nargothrond. Yet routed at  
The Fen of Serech Finrod was,  
Beset by orcs on ev’ry side,  
And nearly killed—but for a Man,  
Bold Barahir, who for great loss  
Cut through the host of Angband fell  
And thus delivered Finrod's folk,  
Who then returned to Nargothrond  
Indebted to the sons of Men.

And Finrod knew his time had come  
And swore, with fell light in his eyes,  
Abiding friendship to the house  
Of Barahir and all his kin,  
The Aftercomers he had loved  
Since they awoke in Middle-Earth,  
And with his ring did seal the oath.  
Then came cruel Foresight once again  
And showed him how his oath would end—  
In darkness at the Cruel One's hands—  
Yet Fate could no more dim the light  
That burned as fire in eyes of sky  
Than Fëanor reclaim his gems;  
And Finrod smiled and sealed his fate.

He welcomed too to Nargothrond  
The dispossessed of Sudden Flame:  
Both Celegorm and Curufin  
The sons of Fëanor who from  
Dorthonion fled south in search  
Of refuge, which they found at last  
In Finrod's realm and in his heart.

But not for long could this truce last  
For troubled were the brothers in  
Both heart and mind, remembering  
The Oath they swore across the Sea;  
And long had Curufin with all  
His cunning schemed to win the throne  
Which he perceived as birthright of  
The eldest line of princes of  
The Noldor. So when Beren came  
And sought aid from King Felagund  
To win the hand of Lúthien dear—  
The price of which: a Silmaril,  
As set in those enchanted woods  
By Thingol King of Doriath—  
The sons of Fëanor did rise  
Against their lord, who would fulfill  
The oath he swore to Barahir.  
They spoke—nay, threatened open war  
If Nargothrond should join him in  
This quest, for neither law nor love,  
Nor league of swords, nor bonds of kin  
Should shield him from the ancient Oath  
That Fëanor across the Sea  
Swore with his sons if Finrod claim  
A Silmaril. They spoke of war,  
Of wrath, and Nargothrond in ash  
If any should dare lay claim to  
A Silmaril, the sacred gems  
That they alone claimed, till world's end.

Thus Finrod saw his people swayed  
By threats and promises, and turned  
Against him by fair Celegorm  
And cunning craft of Curufin.  
So cast he down his silver crown  
And left, an outcast in the realm  
Which he had built with his own hands,  
A king thus dispossessed by those  
Who were themselves the Dispossessed;  
Tho' with him went ten warriors,  
The faithful ones of Nargothrond.  
So Finrod into darkness went,  
Forsaken and betrayed by those  
Who had found safety in his halls;  
And thus for love of Barahir—  
A spark that burned and never died,  
That shone yet in his eyes of sky,  
As clear as mighty Sirion  
On shores of stone—he won the name  
Of _Faithful,_ for he could have turned  
Away from Beren and his oath  
And reigned another thousand years  
In glory in fair Nargothrond.  
Yet knew he when he swore his oath  
That this was how it was to end  
And swore devotion anyway;  
So Anar set and Finrod smiled,  
And raised Fate's chalice to his lips.

Now came they to Tol Sirion,  
Which Finrod's nephew Orodreth  
Once ruled, before cruel Sauron came  
And conquered after Sudden Flame  
And Tol-in-Gaurhoth he renamed  
The shining tower that did guard  
The Pass of Sirion. They were  
Disguised by arts of Felagund—  
Disguised as orcs, as Morgoth's thralls—  
But brought before the Enemy,  
For tho' they looked as orcs to all  
Who saw them, they did not report  
Their deeds, as was commanded of  
All Morgoth's thralls, and went in haste.

And tho' fair Felagund was strong  
In songs of power (for 'tis said  
That Light of Trees in Valinor  
Shone yet in blazing eyes of sky),  
He could not match the Dark Lord's skill  
In weaving traps and trickery.  
For Sauron wove a tapestry  
Of red blood flowing on the shores  
Of Valinor beside the Sea;  
Of havens starlit left in flames;  
Of ships at Losgar left to burn.  
He sang of Helcaraxë cold,  
The Ice where many fell to rest  
Forever; of kin sundered by  
The bloodshed wrought by fatal Oath  
Of Fëanor and all his sons—  
And Finrod fell before the throne.

Yet they would not reveal their names  
Nor purpose in Tol Sirion,  
And only sat in silent scorn;  
So into darkness they were cast—  
A darkness to the Void akin,  
A darkness Finrod once had Seen  
When Foresight cruel had come on him  
In brighter days. Then Sauron swore  
To slay them cruelly in this pit  
Of terror and despair, where none  
Should know or care about their end  
In fearsome dark, to never walk  
Beneath the trees or see the lights  
Of Varda Queen of Stars again  
If they sing not the truth for him.

And Felagund he thought to keep  
For last, for in him he perceived  
Great wisdom and the power of  
The line of Finwë who was slain  
By Melkor in fair Valinor  
And hoped to break King Felagund  
By forcing him to watch his friends  
Be tormented until their deaths;  
For little is more painful than  
To see one’s friends in agony  
And hear them cry and beg and scream  
For mercy that will never come  
Except through silent, freezing Death.  
And Sauron did force Finrod to  
Plead for the merciful release  
Of death for each true follower  
Who went with him not for reward  
But faith, and loyalty they swore  
To him, King Felagund the Fair  
When he ruled mighty Nargothrond.  
Thus each was granted sweet release  
Of death through Finrod’s fervent pleas,  
Tho’ neither graves nor burials  
Were dug nor held for those who dwell  
In Mandos or the Blessed Realm,  
For Sauron’s wolves left no remains  
To bury or on pyre burn.

And Sauron thought his plan would work  
For saw he Finrod’s spirit wane  
In wake of watching friends of old  
Who unto world’s end would have gone  
With him through seas of fire and ice  
Fall victim to eternal sleep—  
The sleep that he, on bended knee,  
Had begged Sauron bestow on them.  
But tho’ the voice of Finrod fair  
Did break in anguish ev’ry time  
He bid the final farewell to  
A comrade, silent he remained  
And kept the secrets of his realm  
Locked in the vault of memory.

But when the wolf for Beren came  
A fell light shone in Finrod’s eyes  
Once more—the light of seas unleashed,  
Of howling winds across the ice,  
Unyielding, unforgiving ice  
At the Encircling Ocean’s mouth,  
And fire that rages to protect  
A honey-sweet yet bitter love  
That never died but merely slept  
Till Finrod’s Doom once more awoke  
The glowing embers of his love.  
For tho’ one may join fire and ice,  
The water of this union born  
Will not forget its origins  
In flame of heart and cold of mind;  
Just as a blade once swung will not  
Forget the taste of war and blood  
And ringing clang of steel on steel  
Although its shape may be unmade:  
One cannot forge a weapon, then  
Demand that it forget its use.

So Finrod joined the flame of heart  
And judgment cruel and cold of mind  
To make a strength that had them both;  
And from enchanted chains broke free,  
Then he with hands and teeth alone  
Did slay the wolf, but not before  
He tasted blood—his own—and choked,  
And felt the chill of coming Death.  
And while his heart did long to heed  
The sobbing pleas of Beren bold  
To stay, his spirit heard the call  
Of Mandos, and his fallen friends  
In timeless halls beyond the Sea.  
So said he, "Do not mourn my death,  
Brave Beren son of Barahir,  
But wait for Lady Lúthien fair  
For she approaches. Fare thee well!"  
For this, too, he had once foreseen  
In fairer days before the fall  
Of Nargothrond from valour and  
The freedom of the Elves of old.  
So Finrod smiled and met his fate  
And greeted Death with open arms.

Thus Finrod wise Finarfin's son  
The fairest of all Finwë’s house,  
Who loved perhaps too easily,  
And loved unwisely, many say,  
But loved ever and always well;  
Redeemed his oath to Barahir.

And laid to rest was he upon  
The hilltop of Tol Sirion  
Where flowers grow not on his grave  
But green grass marks his resting place  
Which still remains inviolate,  
On mighty waters looking out  
And keeping watch for travellers  
Who pass the looming tower by  
Where Finrod fought and died for love.

And it is said by some that he  
Does guide them when their sight’s obscured  
By rain or snow, through treacherous,  
Fast-flowing waters. It is said  
That since he slept, no man has been  
To pieces dashed on jutting rock  
That foaming rapids crash against.  
They say as well that on some nights—  
The ones so dark that Varda’s stars  
Shine not through suffocating black;  
That even Eärendil hides  
Behind Súlimo’s heavy clouds—  
A light may flare, a sudden flame,  
A streak of orange, flickering  
As candles do, and there rings out  
A cheerful voice amidst the fog  
That sings of danger fended off,  
Of passage safe down Sirion,  
And through the Elven-lands of old.  


And lo! the misty curtain parts!  
A warm light shines! the silver glass  
Flares golden-red in sudden flame!  
The ship so passes onward west.  
The sailor looks to water bright  
And hears once more the swaying song  
Of that voice fair: “Farewell, my friend!  
May mighty Sirion bear thee  
Whither thou wilt, to happy days!”

The sailor goes with strange new hope  
And wonders of a song he heard  
Long, long ago that told of one  
Named _Faithful, _for he always held  
And nurtured Hope till she grew from  
A sapling to a mighty tree;  
Who walked with Darkness, fought, and died  
For love, a fierce but ill-starred love;  
Whose spirit smiles upon the Men,  
And Elves, and Dwarves, and wayfarers  
Who pass fair, green Tol Sirion;  
And lights their paths through starless night  
And offers hope when there is none.__

__So ends the song of Felagund  
Whose deeds shall be remembered in  
The Elven-songs till Arda’s end,  
Tho’ tears unnumbered did he shed,  
As Mandos in the Doom foretold—  
Aye, let this be a warning to  
The reckless youths who glory seek:  
That tragedy is no less sad  
For all that chosen it may be  
And all the triumph in the fall.  
But let it still remain a light  
In darker days of Arda Marred,  
The song of Finrod Felagund  
The Fair, who hoped against all hope,  
And—some say—smiles on us today._ _

__(For what was left to him, if not  
That which he was created for—  
To love? How could he turn away  
From love which was as life to him?)_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Some lines borrowed from Tolkien's work, with my adaptations for rhythm in brackets:
> 
> "An oath I too shall swear, and must be free to follow it... Nor shall anything of my realm endure that a son should inherit [Nor shall there endure anything / Of my realm for a son to rule]" ("Of the Noldor in Beleriand");
> 
> "...for they [Celegorm and Curufin] were of the eldest line of the princes of the Noldor" ("Of Beren and Lúthien");
> 
> "neither law, nor love, nor league of swords... [my version continues slightly differently]" ("The Oath of Fëanor");
> 
> "For the Silmarils we [they] alone claim[ed], until the world ends [till world's end]" ("Of Beren and Lúthien");
> 
> "...they... [did not] report their deeds, as was commanded to all the servants of Morgoth [and went in haste]" ("Of Beren and Lúthien");
> 
> "...In Valinor, the red blood flowing / Beside the Sea... [Of red blood flowing on the shores / Of Valinor beside the Sea] ... / And Finrod fell before the throne" ("Of Beren and Lúthien");
> 
> "they fell [the fall / of Nargothrond] from the valour and freedom of the Elves of old" ("Of Beren and Lúthien");
> 
> "...the deeds that we shall do shall be the matter of song until the last days of Arda [Whose deeds shall be remembered in / The Elven-songs till Arda's end]" ("Of the Flight of the Noldor");
> 
> "Tears unnumbered shall ye [did he] shed" ("Of the Flight of the Noldor").
> 
> (Sorry for the long end note; if I've missed anything, feel free to let me know and I'll add it!) What did you think? I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
